The Dawn of The Circle
by L.Aguila
Summary: They say that someday, the story of The Circle will be told...and it will. When a well-known Shadowhunter family returns from London, Amatis Graymark will never look at the world the same way. Then there are other things to be afraid of, sadly.
1. Amatis Graymark

**Chapter 1 – Amatis Graymark**

**Author's Note:**

**This is the story of the young Circle.**

**If you have not read the City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, I would advise you not to read—just to be safe.**

**Although in this story, we're going far back, and I see no major spoilers to begin with.**

**Look's like I have been flooded by ideas too soon?**

_I love the story of The Circle and I am going to share it with you as much as I could._

_Note that I have to do regular checking on my TMI history, geography and gossip__._

* * *

Idris, 1984

Amatis Graymark had been arranging the books on the shelves. The Graymark Manor was constructed on the outskirts of Idris, just far enough to watch the sun rise and set on the beautiful city of Alicante. She did not always like to read, but she loved choosing ones that her brother might like. Lucian can walk into a library and live in it. One time, he had come home from school and went directly to the library. Their parents had gone looking for him, since he didn't miss dinner. They found him by the window, curled up into an ball, and a book was lying open on the floor. Sometimes, she wished she could read and get lost in a book like her brother usually could. She loved the stories, but there was nothing more important to her than taking photographs. She could never imagine how memories of joy and sorrow could easily be captured in a piece of thin cardboard, which makes them all the more interesting. Her camera had been barely functioning when she first bought it from a store, but her father had done the effort to fix it for three nights, cleaned it of rust, and gave it back to her with an installed roll of film.

"Amatis?" It was Lucian, there was sweat on his shirt and his glasses were crooked. He had always been a dedicated Shadowhunter, though at times he may be overdoing it. She did not like his nighttime ventures, though Amatis trusts his _parabatai_ to watch after him. "I thought you were making the soup tonight?"

"I didn't know you would come earlier than usual. I'm actually surprised that you're already here." She sat on the arm chair by the shelves, setting down the pile of books she had gathered. Most of the books she had been picking were her brother's. Amatis would know they were his—he loved reading fiction and adventure more than the Shadowhunter codex. The library would be a mess after he had gone through every single one of the science fiction ones he had. She looked at him, his brown hair was sticking out from every direction. "By the Angel, Lucian, What happened to your neck?"

He reached for the side of his neck, there was a long gash that oozed blood. He flinched at the touch of the open wound. "I found myself a new girlfriend?"

"Ha-Ha," She replied. "It isn't funny. Does your _parabatai_ know how to draw an _iratze_?

"We didn't have much time," He simply replied. "Besides, there aren't any poisonous demons in Brocelind Plain."

Amatis placed her hands on her face. Not raising her head to look at him, she said, "You have gone to Brocelind Plain again? You know that it is unprotected by the towers." It was not uncommon for Shadowhunters to go out of the gates to secure it from any prowling demons, but Lucian was not the one who lets a demon go by itself when it invites you to something deadly. "Come here and give me your stele."

Lucian didn't like being told what to do, especially when it was his sister who was using the "older sister tone" on him. Though he did hand her his stele and sat on the armchair opposite hers. As she approached him, he raised his chin and allowed Amatis to maneuver the instrument and started to draw the Mark on the opposite side of his neck. "It was for an application training. We were finally using _katanas_ today."

"You have to think, too, that you had just learned how to handle the weapon and its basics." She finished the _iratze_ and stepped back to look at him.

Lucian simply dismissed the idea of danger. "Amatis, I can take care of myself."

"You are fifteen," She replied, not listening to him.

"I am fifteen and a Shadowhunter," He said. "I'm not a child anymore, Amatis. We all have to grow up sometime."

Amatis just looked at him, she could see the fine and strong lines of his face that he had inherited from their father. She always wished she looked more like Lucian, strong and solid. Unlike him, she was thin and delicate. She didn't like being that kind of girl, one who was always being handled like she would break. She wasn't the only one, though, who had the problem. Boys and girls were both taught the history and Law of the children of the Nephilim, but the training with weapons and footwork were given more to the boys. Letting the girls know how to handle and call out the name of a seraph blade had been enough. That too, made her want to be like Lucian, learning all the new things for battle and demon-slaying.

"Let's get you dinner, then." She said, moving towards the door and taking one last look at her brother, then proceeding to walk towards the kitchen. It had been slightly dim out in the halls. It was mostly lit by witchlight, a faint glow across the high ceilings.

"The next time you scold your little brother," Amatis turned, and saw a familiar figure walking towards her. "would you please check if you have guests in the hallways? Or at least shut the doors properly, because I'm embarrassed for you." Annamarie Highsmith was walking in the halls, her platinum hair falling elegantly to one side of her face. Despite the cold weather, Anna was not wearing any jacket, like she had portaled to their home all the way from Los Angeles.

"Oh, Anna." Amatis walked towards her. Annamarie's smile was inviting, and her green eyes were surprisingly warm. They embraced each other with excited laughs.

"I heard that," Lucian walked pushed the library door open and walked out, waving an awkward greeting at Annamarie. "I'll do the cooking then." He was looking at Amatis and pointed towards the kitchen. Moments later, Lucian was gone.

"I brought you something," Annamarie said, and quickly reached for her satchel. She was going through rubbish in her bag, and then fished out a small envelope. "I almost forgot it when we had Ragnor Fell create the portal. It's a relief I actually had to time to reach for it before the portal closed."

Amatis took it as Annamarie gave it to her. She quickly opened the flap of paper and gushed, "Oh, thank you, Anna! This was sent to you on a very short notice, but you had them developed right away."

Annamarie laughed. "I told you, you should really be in the Los Angeles Institute with me. We can save up for that instant camera of yours." Amatis thought of that lovely Polaroid she saw Valentine, Lucian's _parabatai_, held it out to her. It was interesting and practical. She wouldn't have to wait for Anna to come back from the city for her to see the photos she took.

"Let's get you dinner before Lucian hogs most of it," Amatis said, and walked with the laughing Annamarie towards the dining room.

"He hasn't grown out of that appetite, I see."

* * *

Their father wasn't at dinner today. There had been a meeting up at the Gard, the Council had been trying to settle and deliberate things before the Accords will be signed. Vladimir Graymark had been eyed for the position as Inquisitor, thus he had been assigned to all sorts of work day and night.

"I'll have a small party in the next four days," Annamarie said as they sat on the dinner table. Unlike her best friend, she was social and friendly to almost any one.

Amatis focused her attention on Lucian, ceremoniously eating his food like it were the last of all the meat he was going to eat. "What do you think?"

"What?" He raised his eyes to meet hers, pausing from eating his dinner. Lucian had the same blue eyes as his sister, but they were more luminescent and expressive behind those crooked glasses. "I thought you usually didn't like parties?" he was addressing Annamarie.

"Doesn't matter," Amatis said. "You will come, won't you?"

Lucian took a moment to think and replied "I might," then he proceeded with wolfing down his food.

Annamarie looked at Amatis instead. She looked young and intimidating. Under the fluorescents that were pooling the room with brightness, Anna's Marks looked strong and dark. That too, was one of the many things that set her and Amatis apart. Anna enjoyed staying in an Institute, it had allowed her to be taught how to fight and slay demons—like a real trained Shadowhunter.

"I wasn't really planning on a party. I wouldn't even do it on my eighteenth birthday." She said.

"So why now?" Amatis asked, drinking down a glass of grape juice.

"My father had been really good friends with the head of the London Institute, and they wish to welcome them to Idris, along with my birthday of course."

"Saves money," Lucian said. Amatis was not quite sure why such family needed to have such grand welcoming into Idris. Shadowhunters come and go, and she had never heard of an Idrisian whose return was anticipated by anyone at all.

Seeing the question in her friend's face, Annamarie said, "The Herondales have not come home in years."

"They should have been that honorable, I guess." Lucian was now done with his dinner, his plate scraped clean of anything. "To be missed like that, I mean."

"Oh, trust me. I heard that the younger and more attractive they are, the ruder they become." Anna replied quickly, like it was a knowledge to anyone in the first place.

"That's not very attractive," Amatis said, finishing her food.

* * *

Amatis hurried to the front door when she heard someone knock. It had been Jocelyn, of course, her beautiful red hair falling around her delicate face as usual. It was almost impossible to catch her face in an angle that was not all pretty. She had been looking for Lucian, who was nowhere to be seen at the time.

"He won't be long, I guess." Amatis was now serving Jocelyn some Earl Grey, she had made a mental note that her brother's best friend loved the tea very much. She had been been serving her with that ever since. "He must be doing some training with Valentine. You know those two, they reach anywhere around Alicante just to do their drills."

"They both have training rooms in their homes," Jocelyn said, the annoyance was shown well on her face. Valentine's home, of course, was much grander than Lucian's.

Amatis shrugged. "Boys."

Jocelyn laughed with what sounded like utter agreement. The girl had been giving Valentine quite a lot of special attention lately, and Lucian has not mentioned anything. Though of course, Lucian will always be her best friend, and she regularly visited to be with him like she had always done since their childhood.

"There will be a grand party at the Highsmiths' in the next few days, it will be at the Accords Hall, I heard." Jocelyn said, Amatis suddenly aware that she was starting the conversation just to be polite.

She had been equally polite enough to reply. "She never mentioned it was _that _grand." There was a slight pause, like they both had nothing to say to each other. Their conversations always went this way. Amatis always had a problem with keeping a conversation with someone she knew she wasn't really close to. "Jocelyn?"

The younger girl looked up, her green eyes looked up at her, they look surprisingly bright against her pale skin. "Yes?"

She didn't understand why she asked, "Has Lucian told you anything lately?"

Jocelyn's head shook in confusion. "No, I don't think so. He's been talking about weapons and how he manages to cut himself at times."

Amatis's face scrunched up in a conceding manner and explained, "He has been busy walking outside the Wards, you know that?"

The other girl looked down on her tea and replied, "He has?"

"You better ask him and Valentine," Amatis said, cleaning up the dishes that were used at breakfast. "They are somehow obsessed with all this fighting, it's almost scary."

"I think they know what they're doing," Jocelyn absent-mindedly replied, her eyes were on the pale yellow walls that were adorned with photographs.

Amatis walked back to the counter and offered Jocelyn a slice of lemon meringue pie. "At least one of them does."

* * *

**Chachiiiing!**

**I enjoyed writing this one very much. I hope you'd stick around to read it when the story progresses (and gets more exciting).**

**Note that there are character profiles (most of them) were not clear in any of Cassandra Clare's books. We all know the general flow of events, but not necessarily the exact things that made them spectacular. We just know that Jocelyn is an artist and Luke (I mean, Lucian) loved books. So I'm trying to refresh my character connections and relationships too.**

**See you in the next chapter, loves!**

**and oh, write down your thoughts by reviewing! :)**


	2. Stephen Herondale

**Chapter 2 – Stephen Herondale**

**Author's Note:**

**This is the story of the young Circle.**

**If you have not read the City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, I would advise you not to read—just to be safe.**

**Although in this story, we're going far back, and I see no major spoilers to begin with.**

_Hallo. Just another one for you._

_It's taking me longer than I usually update since I had to build the story from scratch._

_I'm trying as hard as I could though._

_Enjoy loves!_

* * *

It was dark under the raining clouds in Alicante that Tuesday morning. The grass and pavement were both drenched under the downpour. It was never this gloomy in the city of glass, it had always been beautiful and sun-soaked and glorious. Amatis was walking under a yellow umbrella, its bright color clashing against the gloom. She was heading towards the Great Library, where most young Shadowhunters would go to study. She wasn't training today, so all the more was the discomfort of wearing a dress during the unforgivable weather.

She hurried towards the steps and quickly took sanctuary under the roofed threshold of the Library.

"It's not very ethical for a woman to walk around a public place that soaked," said a masculine voice from behind her.

She did look at herself at that. Her blouse was clinging to her body, and her skirt was hugging her legs in a way that it looked more vulgar than it really appeared. She could feel the blood rush towards her cheeks. Perhaps, she could explain herself.

Amatis turned to face a young man. She had never seen him in Idris before. The boy was in full gear, with a fully armored weapons belt clinging around his waist. His hair was fair, falling right above his eyebrows and framing a strong and angled jawline. The young man was stunning, though he stood in way a young man would when he was too full of himself. He had a crooked smile on his face, a deliberate look of cockiness behind it. She closed her umbrella and replied, "I think it's more unethical for a young man to look at a girl that way, especially when he knows it's raining."

He snorted, Amatis could almost feel the wave of confidence he was emanating through his simple gestures, like flicking his hair. He had the look of a boy who could make girls swoon, and he is surely well-aware of that. "I have never encountered a girl who could talk back at me like that," He had a strong English accent. Amatis had almost missed it when he first spoke to her. "They usually just stop in space with their mouths open."

Amatis scowled. She had never encountered someone so arrogant before. "Do you just usually talk about yourself just like that?"

His smile widened. "No, I usually don't talk to people at all." He stepped closer towards her, his hand extending. "Stephen."

She looked at him. He didn't look like he was any of the kids she had seen. The sight of him standing right there in full gear gave an air of complete laziness—like he had just been convinced to come to the Library after days of being reprimanded by his parents.

Or he could just be that comfortable anywhere he goes.

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes traveled from her then down to his abandoned hand. "That's very impolite."

"I don't think I should be feeling bad at all," The girl replied. She had wanted to just walk away, but Amatis will not give him the satisfaction of winning.

"Then I thought I would be welcome in Alicante. I shouldn't have left the Institute after all." He feigned the dramatic hurt in his voice.

At this, Amatis realized that he must be a member of the Shadowhunter family who had just arrived from the London Institute. It may have also explained the thick Londoner accent in his voice. She looked at him and was ready to throw back a reply, and thought better of it. She held tighter to her folding umbrella and proceeded to towards the large doors of the Library.

As she reached the entrance, she wondered if Stephen was still there. She twisted around and scowled, realizing he was still standing where he was, just staring after her. "If you want my name, Mr. Herondale, you will have to be a little more courteous the next time you talk to me."

She saw a surprised look pass his face, and then she turned around, opened the doors and walked inside.

* * *

Jocelyn was walking up the Gard when she saw him. He was taking shelter under a large tree. His shirt, now tightly clinging against the shape of his muscular upper body, was soaking from the pouring rain. She could almost see the black Marks beneath the thin fabric. It was an image of a strong young man who stood out against the dullness of the gray sky and the lush greenness of the grass. He was beautiful. His hair, fairer than anyone else's, had almost looked like a halo from afar. Valentine looked like an angel from every angle Jocelyn looked. His lashes were long and thick, curling slightly in a way most girls would have wanted.

"I never knew you liked bright colored umbrellas," Valentine said, as she walked towards him.

Jocelyn smiled, her red hair beautifully bounced as she fell beside him. "You should not have walked under the rain. It's pouring."

"Shine or downpour, I promised you I'd come here." He looked at her. Perhaps, it had been long since they first met and eventually fell in love. They were young, but like any other Shadowhunter, time was always running and death was always at your doorstep. "I wish to have a daughter one day, so that she could look just like you."

She chuckled at the bold thought. It had been so sudden, like a subconscious thought that found its way to his lips. "She'd be just like her mother, then?"

Valentine smiled, he looked younger when he does. It seemed like the tension on his face is loosened and his thoughts buried somewhere he couldn't reach. From the very beginning, Jocelyn had known that he was intelligent. Quite ambitious, but he mostly gets everything he wishes anyway. "And brave and beautiful and smart." He pulled her to him, her hair falling against his broad shoulders.

"Not too brave please," Jocelyn said without really thinking, but she was looking into space. When he didn't reply right away, she looked up at him. There was a certain mildness masking against his sharp and strong features. Valentine, no matter how cunning and deadly he can be, was gentle in his own ways. It all seemed like a façade to her, for each and every day, his gentler side has become rarer than ever. She cherished the moment, for it will be all gone as soon as that smile starts to fade and all the tension in his sharp features will be back again.

There was a look that passed in his eyes. They were the darkest shade of color she'd seen, but it was brighter than any other iris in the world. He reached for her gently and pulled her to his side. "It's unavoidable. Even if I wouldn't train her, genes could be a very important thing." His smile, she noticed, was already gone. "The Circle's starting to grow." The glum look on his face spelled the thoughts that may have been permanently printed on his mind.

Jocelyn just looked at him.

"What?" Valentine said, more joking than annoyed. "I was just changing the subject."

It would have been lovely, hearing the untainted humor in his voice. Jocelyn had always longed for Valentine to be the light and worry-free boy that he was. She looked at him, "The Circle is something we both know about and probably think about the whole time."

His eyebrows scrunched into the look of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I meant," Jocelyn was suddenly alarmed, thinking that she may have spoken the wrong words. "That I wanted to hear things you haven't told me about. Like what you did in training today."

"You wouldn't like it if I told you anything," he was looking down at their feet. Jocelyn didn't know if he was concerned or hiding something—it would most probably be annoyance after all.

She looked at him fondly, "You know you could tell me anything, Valentine." She said, tracing his high cheekbones. "Other than Lucian, perhaps." She didn't understand why, but she could feel him suddenly stiffen. She could have imagined it, but it bothered her.

"I could tell you," he said, "that there is no one other than you who knows more about me."

* * *

Amatis was reviewing the essentials of battle when the door to the library swung open. She turned around to see Maryse Trueblood, a usual unhappy look on her face. Maryse was beautiful, her dark hair cascading down to her hips. This was one of the rare occasions that she didn't pull her hair into a tight ponytail. Her long hair softened the sharp angles of her skinny stature, thus making her look younger and less sullen than she usually is.

"Who's mentoring today?" The dark-haired girl said, throwing her satchel on the farthest seat away from where Amatis was sitting. Maryse was gorgeous, but Amatis could never really find it in her to actually like the girl.

"We're on individual study today. At least that's what I think." She replied shortly, keeping her eyes on the book in front of her.

Maryse made a faint sound of annoyance. "Well, I guess that's more reason for me to leave today." She started to fix her things and readily started towards the door. "By the way," Amatis wasn't sure if she was the one being referred to, but she looked anyway. "You need to go out sometime, it's great out."

"It's pouring outside." She replied, as a matter of factly.

"It's not always the outside world, though that's a good idea for you too." Maryse gracefully slung her satchel on her shoulder and walked outside, slamming the door.

The other girl just looked at the door, thinking begrudgingly on how she truly disliked Maryse. She looked back at the work she'd been doing and continued on, ignoring the fact that she had just been offended. Amatis was never the outgoing type, walking outside and talking to people only if it were necessary. Annamarie leaving for the Institute wasn't making her feel any better either, leaving her with lesser people to talk to than ever.

Then she heard the door creak open again. Thinking that it might have been Maryse, Amatis spoke without looking back. "You forgot something?"

She could hear a soft chuckle from behind her. "Your name."

The voice wasn't feminine, and certainly not Maryse's. Instead, a familiar Londoner accent echoed across the large space. Amatis closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't expect she'd be dealing with just another difficult person. "I said, Mr. Herondale, that politeness is something that you can't learn overnight."

She could hear him walk towards her. His footsteps were light and graceful, like he had been trained all his life to work sneakily behind people's backs. He finally found his way to the seat in front of Amatis, his shadow hovering over her. He didn't sit down, just lazily placed his hands on the table and leaned towards where she sat. "So does familiarity," he said, his voice deep and confident. "It needs to start from somewhere, though."

Amatis finally looked up, his angled face covered by the faint shadow cast by the sunlight brought by the large windows behind him. "Well, you could start being polite." She replied stiffly, not giving him the amusement he must have been seeking.

"What's in the name?" he asked dramatically. "And for you to know perfectly well that it was me who walked in says something about you."

"You're quoting Shakespeare now?" She raised her eyebrows.

"You like to stray away from the topic? That's not very polite." He looked straight at her. A smile was drawn across his face. His expression was amused, but not mocking. When Amatis just looked at him, he guessed she couldn't fire back, so he smiled and leaned back. "I won now, so can I have your name?"

Amatis looked at him with a raise eyebrow. "A game?"

"You won earlier today, so I didn't get your name." He said, "Now, I get to know you better. It's impolite to talk to someone without addressing them correctly."

They just looked at each other for moments then, battling amusement with pure annoyance. For someone who managed to walk around and talk less, Amatis had been trying to win the conversation for quite a while.

They were interrupted by the loud creaking of the door, swinging open to reveal another annoyed face, Maryse. "Amatis, this is never the time to play hard-to-get. I like the pride, though." She strut inside and grabbed something that was on the floor, she really might have forgotten something after all.

Amatis watched her as she gracefully walked outside that door, slamming it without taking a second look at the rest of the Library's occupants.

"She had been listening?" Amatis annoyingly said.

"I don't think that was very polite either, Amatis." He smiled proudly at her.

* * *

**So, how was it? :)**

**I will be gradually updating this. Building on the story as much as I could.**

**It's hard guys, really. Trying to make something that doesn't have much background info and foundation.**

**I'm working on it though.**

**Don't forget to review! Toodles! :)**


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